


Far From A Home

by kewlwhp



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, F/M, Historical References, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2019-11-12 19:17:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18016805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kewlwhp/pseuds/kewlwhp
Summary: “We have a code ‘round here, if you would recall. We help those that we believe need helping, and she seems to fit the bill perfectly. An outcast, just like us..."Arthur and Hosea encounter a woman being chased across the Heartlands by a group of O'Driscolls after robbing the stagecoach at Carmody Dell. Soon after their intervention she is adopted into the band of outlaws known as the Van der Linde gang, her past following her in close pursuit.





	1. Far From A Home - I

“I’m heading back to camp. What about you?” Hosea asks Arthur as he mounts his horse. They had just finished a job, robbing a stagecoach in exchange for business with the Fence at Emerald Ranch.

Arthur shrugs his shoulders. “Why not?” he says fixing his position in his saddle, soon following after the elderly man.

The two men rode in silence for most of the trip, a calm sort of quiet lingered in the air. It was almost relaxing, which was something to be enjoyed and savoured. Nobody seemed to be sharing the road with them as it was probably past midnight. Hosea had woken him up when it was already pitch black out so he could only guess that they had waited a long while before robbing that homestead at Carmody Dell.

“You seem tired, Arthur.” Hosea says, Arthur looks to his side to see his long time mentor staring him down with a concerned expression. He audibly sighs.

“More since we left Blackwater at least.”

Hosea nods his head seeming to understand the implicit weight conveyed in Arthur’s vague statement. They had spoken about this before on their own time. Blackwater might have been a suffocating place, civilization looming over the horizon and all, but it certainly had not been lacking in lucrative opportunities. Arthur knew what had been left behind, the people they had lost, the money he had spent years saving up, all lost because of a botched job. Sometimes that was all it took. Now that they were at Horseshoe Overlook Arthur tried not to get too worried. Dutch seemed to be back in the right headspace so there wasn’t much more to complain about. Hosea remained openly skeptical though, now more than ever it seemed, but what else was there to do other than to keep going? Even if Arthur had his own doubts lurking in the back of his mind, it was easier to not let them take control. After all, panicking didn’t suit him.

They just had to keep moving and hope for the best.

Suddenly, the crack of a shot cut through the stillness of the night air. Arthur’s ears perked up at the sudden noise and pulled on the reins to slow his horse.

“Did you hear that?” Hosea asked, slowing to a stop beside Arthur, his head whipping around trying to listen for more.

Arthur nods in response. “Think they’re for us?” his right hand had instinctively dropped to his side, hovering close to his holstered pistol as he scanned his surroundings, the plains looked empty.

“Nah.” Hosea shakes his head. “Sounded a bit far from here.”

Then with a passing breeze the sounds of distant men’s voices could be heard followed by more gunshots being fired.

“Come, this way.” Hosea calls out to Arthur leading his horse off of the main road and breaking into a gallop across the open field.

“Are you sure we should be getting into someone else’s business right now?” Arthur asks trying not to shout as Hosea rides away, the older man offers no response, instead he continues to ride ahead, leading them closer and closer to something Arthur could only assume was more trouble than what it was worth.

_So much for peace and quiet..._

As they ride further into the field the voices only get more clear. They approach a grouping of trees as they pass over a hill, orbs of orange light weave in and out between the trunks. Arthur has to squint to try and see what’s going on in the darkness. When his eyes adjust he can see about three men each with lanterns in pursuit of another person on foot a couple of yards ahead of them. Hosea rides further ahead towards the action, perhaps out of sheer curiosity. Arthur follows him thinking that they had already dove too deep into this problem.

“Don’t kill her now!” one of the men call out to the others. “Colm wants this girl alive!”

O’Driscolls, chasing after a woman.

“For Christ’s sake, those rotten bastards.” Arthur mutters under his breath.

“What do you suggest we do?” Hosea asks surveying the situation slowing down his horse again, letting Arthur decide what he wanted to do.

Arthur could have easily chosen to walk away. They were already carrying enough mental baggage with the O’Driscolls from Dutch’s persistent hatred for Colm, one so furious that it seemed to stretch past his anti-revenge philosophy. Despite all of this logic, before Arthur even knows what he’s doing, he’s riding faster towards the scene, withdrawing his pistol from its holster.

As he catches up Arthur sees the woman look back at her pursuers. She veers left before tripping over a rock and diving into a damp patch of earth. The men catch up to her with their guns pointed and ready to shoot at moment’s notice. Arthur, now only a couple of yards behind, pulls the trigger of his pistol.

The bullet hits one of the men in the arm, maiming him just a bit if anything. With her pursuers now distracted by Arthur the woman swiftly gets back on her feet, unsheathes a knife from her belt and stabs one of the men in the neck, the O’Driscoll’s blood splattering all over her arm. The remaining two men return their attention towards her again giving Arthur an opening to sink two shots into the next man closest to her. He aims at the last man standing and pulls on the trigger only to find that he’s out of bullets. As he fumbles with reloading the woman is restrained by the remaining O’Driscoll. Arthur curses under his breath at the situation and Hosea finally regroups, his own gun raised and prepared to shoot once the timing was right.

“You’s is Van der Linde’s men aren’t ya? You’re on O’Driscoll territory.” the kidnapper taunts with his arm hooked around the woman’s throat. He presses the barrel of his gun against her cheek as she attempts to squirm out of his grip. “Don’t struggle now, darlin’.” he says in her ear, Arthur can detect his slimy tone and swallows the urge to gag.

“Let her go.” Arthur demands, his arm is outstretched, pistol aimed and ready to fire, but the O’Driscoll keeps the woman directly in front of him, using her as a human shield against any impending shots.

“Best you boys not get involved. This ain’t your fight.” The man was talkative and a little too cocky for his own good. He was also intriguingly persistent about catching this woman despite being outnumbered.

“What does Colm want with this young lady?” Hosea questions.

“She barely deserves to be called a lady.” the man stalls and tries to whistle for his horse as the woman attempts to wrestle out of his grip, trying to loosen the man’s hold on her neck.

“Didn’t know Colm was into legal money nowadays.” Arthur comments. He was really making it difficult to line up a clear shot without possibly shooting the woman, especially with her wriggling around like that. The O’Driscoll smiles, a sinister chuckle escaping his lips and he bares his teeth at the two of them.

“This ain’t the law’s bounty. More like Colm’s personal business.” he says. Arthur doesn’t know how to interpret this information, his brain focusing on trying to get a damn shot in. “Now if you two could move on along--”

Before he could finish his thought the woman had managed to bite at the man’s hand drawing blood from the surface of the skin. With a shriek of pain the O’Driscoll loses his original stance and his gun fires in between Arthur and Hosea’s horses, effectively spooking them.

Arthur isn’t able to see the struggle clearly as he attempts to calm his horse but he hears a few grunts, the sound of a knife plunging into flesh, then a heavy thud against the ground. When the two manage to collect themselves the woman faces them, blood splattered across her face, interchanging her aim between Arthur and Hosea. She spits out the residual blood in her mouth on the O’Driscoll’s body. There’s a huge gash at the base of his neck gurgling blood onto the prairie grass and soaking into the dirt beneath them.

“Easy now.” Hosea says putting his gun away and raising both of his hands in the air. He then sends Arthur a look, signalling him to do the same. With reluctance Arthur follows suit, slotting  his gun into its holster and raising his hands, a look of uncertainty now washing over him.

As the stalemate persists Arthur finally gets a clear look at her. The woman’s breaths are laboured, strands of black hair falling over her sweaty face, Arthur didn’t notice a campsite as they travelled down the main road so he can only assume that this woman had been chased for a few miles before this point. She’s wearing pants held up by suspenders over a button down shirt, every exposed bit of fabric now covered in smears of grass and dirt, fresh blood stains a new addition to the mix. There’s a wild look in her almond shaped eyes indicating that she would do anything to protect her own skin, a look Arthur is almost too familiar with at this point in his life.

“Do you know any English?” Hosea asks her cautiously, his hands still in the air where the woman can see them.

“I was born here so I guess I do.” she quips, her tone is strong and a bit sarcastic despite her situation. “Who are you? Who are you with?” she interrogates them, her eyes are fierce as they flit back and forth between the two men.

“We’re just trying to help you.” Hosea claims, a gentle tone overtaking his voice as he tries to calm the woman down. Her stance is unwavering, Arthur can only guess at how experienced she is with a gun from how she fought off the two men with just a knife mere minutes ago. This girl must be seasoned fighter.

“If we were out to get you wouldn’t we have done something by now?” Arthur remarks and she aims the gun in his direction now.

“I ain’t looking to be tricked.” her tone grows more hostile, threatening them through clenched teeth and a stiff jaw.

“You must excuse my partner, Miss. Under certain stresses he can seem unsympathetic.” Hosea says in an attempt to defuse the situation. “We were just passing through, trying to get back to our own camp, and saw you were in trouble.”

Her shoulders relax a little at Hosea’s statement but the gun remains raised in her hands.

“You don’t know who I am?” she questions.

“No, ma’am. Trust me when we say we’re on your side.” Hosea reassures her. “Now if you’d allow us we could escort you back home...”

“Don’t have one. Far from any kind of home in fact.” Hosea sends a look to Arthur and he suddenly begins to regret the decision to intervene.

Helping a stranger out of a tough spot was one thing, taking her back as one of their own was another. They had absolutely no idea what the consequences would be if they decided to take her back with them, especially if this was O’Driscoll business. This girl could lead to trouble down the line if they weren’t careful.

“You got a camp?” Hosea asks.

“Back that way.” she answers gesturing in the direction she ran from with a nod of her head. “Can’t guarantee it’s safe to go back right now though. They sent a whole group after me but only three of them chased me here.” With this added information Hosea pauses to think for a moment.

 _Who the hell is this girl?_ Arthur couldn’t think of any reason why Colm’s men would try to ambush one woman with sheer numbers.

“As I’ve mentioned, we have a camp. We got women and children back there. Well only one child...”

“Hosea.” Arthur mutters the older man’s name knowing full well what he’s about to offer but that doesn’t stop him from continuing his spiel.

“Anyways, it’s not safe for you out here on your own and if you’re stranded for now we could make some room for you until you get back on your feet. Then we’ll send you on your way, no questions asked, if you would like.”

The woman purses her lips as she contemplates the offer, her eyes flickering back and forth between the two men. Seconds pass before Arthur notices something in his peripheral vision. An orange glow was starting to rise up over the crest of the hill soon accompanied by the sound of hooves pounding against dirt.

“Better make it quick.” Arthur warns. “That ain’t the sun coming up.” More men would be on them any second now.

Arthur sees the woman shut her eyes as she quickly weighs her options. It takes a brief moment but with a swift exhale she finally lowers her weapon, allowing them to take her back with them.

Arthur and Hosea immediately drop their hands to the reins of their mounts. The woman extends her arm out and Arthur grabs it, pulling her up onto the back of his horse before kicking off into a sprint, Hosea right on his tail. One of the woman’s hands grips at Arthur’s waist as she tries to steady herself on the back of his horse, the other reaches up and pushes on his shoulder forcing him to lean forward.

“What’re you-” he starts before a gunshot whistles over their crouched heads.

“Just ride!” she yells as more shots zip around them.

Arthur’s heels dig into his horse’s sides, riding hard to take them farther and farther away from the scene. As the shots begin to cease with no signs of further trouble Arthur slows to a steady gallop and the woman then repositions her grip on his waist trying to minimize her touch as much as possible without falling off.

The previous quiet returns for the final stretch back to camp but this time it’s anything but calming. All the while the woman doesn’t speak, instead she studies the scenery around her, and more importantly the two men who she agreed to join. Arthur can practically feel her gaze as she tries to get a good look at his face. He keeps his eyes glued to the road, suddenly uncomfortable with a woman’s eyes on him.

“You got a name?” Arthur asks, trying to fill the awkward silence between the two. He feels her posture straighten as if he had caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing, she hesitates to answer. _This girl sure loves to stall._

“I’m Hosea Matthews.” Hosea steps in, riding his horse just right of the two. “This is my frequent business partner Arthur Morgan.”

“Lucy Huang.” She finally responds, her voice sounding a bit smaller compared to when she had been pointing a gun at the two men.

“You’re safe now, Miss Huang.” Hosea reassures her and she does little to reply besides nodding her head.

When they finally return to camp the sun had already began its ascent into the sky. The air tinted with burnt yellow hues and warm pinks as morning light washed the night sky away. Beams of sunlight shine through the gaps in the trees as they ride through the brush surrounding camp warming Arthur’s face. He lets out a yawn with a force that makes his entire body shudder, his exhaustion was starting to set in. He had essentially been up all night and badly yearns for his cot but soon he realizes that rest will have to come later as he feels Lucy’s grip ball up the fabric of his shirt when they enter camp. He can only guess at how Dutch will react. When the gang had arrived at Horseshoe Overlook he had warned Uncle and Reverend Swanson to not take on anymore people and he was not in the mood for an early morning dispute with the boss.

They hitch their horses and Arthur helps Lucy dismount, holding her at the waist and setting her down, as her feet touch the ground she loses her balance for a moment, stumbling into him slightly. She quickly apologizes before pushing away and rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm. Clearly Arthur wasn’t the only one that was tired. She looked even more unfortunate without the fierce expression and dark bags sagging beneath her bloodshot eyes. Her hair was like a nest, it cascaded just past her shoulders with blades of grass entangled amongst the mess of dark strands. Arthur could feel his heartstrings twist a bit at her helpless looking state before steeling himself. This woman carried O’Driscoll baggage and if he had gleaned anything from their first encounter it was that those bags were heavy.

“Good morning, gentlemen.” Dutch greeted, exiting his tent at the center of camp. Arthur turned towards him inadvertently hiding Lucy behind his stature. She wasn’t that tall, the top of her head coming up to the tip of Arthur’s nose so she practically disappeared behind him.

“How was the…job.” Dutch’s sentence trails off as he notices Lucy peeking out from behind Arthur. Hosea grabbed her by the arm, causing her to step out from Arthur’s broad frame.

“And who might you be?” Dutch asks, gradually decreasing the distance between him and the newcomer. All the while Lucy stared at the ground unsure of where to look as Dutch’s eyes inspect her form.

“I...um…” she stutters, awkward from being studied so closely.

“We picked her up on our way back from the Fence.” Hosea cuts in. “Some O’Driscolls cornered her off the main road. Arthur intervened but she seemed able to handle it on her own.”

“O’Driscolls?” Dutch questions, breaking his focus from Lucy for a split second.

“Colm wanted her, Dutch.” Arthur said, his statement seemed to catch Dutch’s attention as he now looks her in the eyes with newfound interest.

“I assume this ain’t your own blood?” Dutch gestures to the splatters now dried and crusted on her skin and clothes. She shakes her head at his question and Dutch cracks a smile, a hearty chuckle escaping in the process.

“What’s your name, dear?” he asks.

“Lucy Huang.” she introduces herself again. Dutch nods giving her another once over, seeming to contemplate something before patting her hands as he holds them in his own.

“Hosea, go wake Ms. Grimshaw if she’s not up already and get this girl a change of clothes.”

Arthur blinks a bit in disbelief and watches Hosea take Lucy away towards Ms. Grimshaw’s tent. When Arthur turns back towards Dutch he finds that he had already retreated back to his tent. Arthur’s exhausted brain had tried to make sense of what had just happened, clearly not expecting that meeting to go as smoothly as it had. He makes his way towards the leader’s open tent in the center of camp. It’s more luxurious than anybody else’s thanks to funds from the gang’s donation box. Dutch had just settled into a stool with a book in hand, Evilyn Miller as per usual. Arthur enters, ducking under the open flaps and stops in front of Dutch, hands on his belt waiting for him to acknowledge his presence.

“Arthur.” Dutch greets before turning the page. He doesn’t bother to make eye contact.

“What’s all this about?” Arthur asks.

“Whatever do you mean, son?” Dutch counters with a vague answer. He knows what he’s talking about, but he wants Arthur to make his concern explicit.

“She staying with us?” The book shuts and is set aside, Dutch’s focus now entirely on Arthur.

“Of course she’s staying with us. You wouldn’t have brought her back if she wasn’t going to stay.” he counters. What he said was absolutely right and Arthur flounders a bit trying to find his words but sticks to his argument nonetheless.

“It was Hosea’s idea. Besides, whatever happened to no more passengers?” Arthur questions, recalling back to the moment they had arrived at Horseshoe Overlook a few weeks ago. The camp was still trying to collect and recuperate after moving from Colter. “I don’t think we have the resources to support another person right now.” he reasons.

“You saw the state she was in, Arthur. Are we going to deny an unfortunate, capable soul shelter from the dangers that lurk out there?” Dutch gestures to no particular direction before his hand clamps down on Arthur’s shoulder forcing both of them into a two man huddle. Arthur’s mind focuses on the word capable more than anything else Dutch had said.

“We’re understaffed around here, Arthur. Anyone willing to help our cause is welcome in my book.” Arthur shakes his head and looks at the ground before locking eyes with Dutch.

“We ain’t just _understaffed_ , Dutch. People have died. Jenny, Davey, Mac is god knows where, Sean got left behind in Blackwater. Is now a good time to be recruiting? Do we really got room for another person? Don’t know if you heard me clearly a few minutes ago but Colm wants her, Dutch. This could just lead to more problems for us down the line. We gotta pick our battles now and we ain’t got time to be playing revenge games with Colm O’Driscoll.”

Dutch pauses before a hollow chuckle escapes him and he shakes his head.

“We have a code ‘round here, if you would recall. We help those that we believe need helping, and she seems to fit the bill perfectly. An outcast, just like us. You must believe it too, after all you saved her. Wasn’t that what Hosea said?”

Arthur remains silent, he really was treading on thin ice right now.

“Do you trust me, Arthur?” Dutch suddenly asks, his stare slicing straight through him.

What had come out of the man’s mouth had been phrased like a question but clearly presented as a challenge. Arthur had lingering doubts that just seemed to keep growing but he wanted to trust Dutch. He desperately wanted to cling onto the image of Dutch that had rooted itself within his brain. The man was his mentor and his guardian, he had raised him.

“Course I do.” Arthur responds, his eyes are locked with Dutch’s and neither of the men back down. Seconds pass before the corners of Dutch’s lips twitch upwards.

“Then there’s nothing more to say on the matter.” His amicable tone returns as if the disagreement between the two men had never happened. With a pat on Arthur’s shoulder Dutch sent him out of the tent before any more objections could arise. Arthur could feel all his thoughts swirling around in his head creating a vortex of anxieties. He brings up his hand, his middle finger and thumb pressing at the temples on either side of his head.

_Sleep, I want sleep._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this fic is mostly a self-indulgent piece for me since I saw that there was a relatively large Asian diaspora in Saint Denis while playing the game. It'll be an interesting challenge for me to try and write a character that is similar to my own ethnicity while also incorporating it into a context where Asian characters aren't that prevalent. So basically I'm just challenging my writing skills while also having fun because I <3 Arthur Morgan. Also I understand that there are already a billion Arthur/OC fics out there but like I said...this one is mostly self-indulgent... idek if anyone will read this because the character is POC and that makes me nervous but wHaTeVeR I'm still posting it for fun.


	2. Far From a Home - II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ain’t really looking forward to fighting a bunch of O’Driscolls on a whim.” he remarks as they pass through the barren valley of the Heartlands, they’re at a steady gallop heading east.
> 
> “You shouldn’t be worried. Most of the time the bastards can’t shoot straight anyways.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I be posting this the night before a midterm? No...but here we are...
> 
> EDIT: I've changed some major plot points for the whole story so this chapter will be a bit different of you've read this before June 8, 2019!!!!

It takes a bit of time for Arthur to roll out of bed today, his eyes had fluttered open, his internal clock not letting him sleep for another minute. A guttural sound escapes his throat as he lifts his body from his cot, his appendages stiff from being out of use for a few hours. Sitting up, he stretches out his limbs, blinking a few times to let his eyes adjust to the broad daylight. The sun was now high in the center of the sky so he could only assume that it was a little bit past noon.

Real regenerative rest was getting hard to come by these days. Sometimes Arthur would close his eyes and his body would never settle. The following day he would wake up feeling heavy, the pains from the previous day carrying over. He had grown used to sleeping anywhere, whenever he wanted, but sleeping deeply was almost too dangerous to indulge in given the gang’s circumstances. Being vigilant was more important most of the time.

The scent of brewed coffee and simmering stew from across camp stimulates his appetite and he instinctively licks at his lips. With a newfound purpose he walks towards the stewpot, his gait is slow though, each step weighted with fatigue. Before he can serve himself he’s stopped by Hosea who’s crouched by the coffee pot.

“Ah, Arthur.” the older man greets and pours out a second cup of coffee for him. A small grunt escapes him as he stands straight. “Good work last night.” he praises as he offers the metal cup to him.

Arthur waves the compliment off. “Nothing I haven’t done a million times before.” he says and takes a sip of the warm drink. He can feel the bitterness settle into his veins, his exhaustion temporarily washing away as he stands there, letting coffee and the midday rays of sun slowly revive him.

“How long was I out?” Arthur asks, his voice a bit husky with lingering sleepiness.

“Maybe a few hours. Missed out on the festivities.” Hosea says.

“Festivities?” Arthur inquires after tipping the last of the coffee down his throat.

“Dutch gave Lucy a formal welcome. To be fair not much happened after that but you know how it goes.” Arthur hangs his head then, his brain starting to stir up at the memory of earlier that morning. “She’s quite the charming young lady, once she warms up to you that is.” Hosea continues.

Arthur nods his head in understanding, choosing not to comment. After his argument with Dutch he had decided not to press the issue of her recruitment any further. Expressing his doubt towards Dutch’s decisions riled him up in a way that worried Arthur. Of course, Arthur still had his reservations about Lucy joining the gang so quickly, fearing that Dutch wasn’t fully considering the issues it could raise in the future with Colm or the gang’s bleak prospects right now, but a fight against Dutch’s word was one where the opposition rarely won, so he left it alone. It was more productive to push forward despite it all.

Hosea seems to catch on to Arthur’s silence giving him an honest look.

“I know you haven’t taken kindly to her yet. To be frank I overheard a bit of your…” He takes a brief pause as he cherry-picks his words. “...argument with Dutch. This isn’t the time to be indifferent or cold. We-”

“Help those that need helping. I know, I know.” He can feel Hosea’s stare on him, trying to interpret his mannerisms.

“I know you’re usually weary with newbies...” Arthur doesn’t meet Hosea’s eyes for a moment, instead he fidgets with the metal cup in his hand, rubbing at a discoloured spot on the outside of it with his thumb.

“It ain’t wrong to be cautious.” he replies.

_Especially now._

“It certainly isn’t, but normally you’re a little more tolerant with new women.”

Arthur sighs with some resolve. What Hosea had said wasn’t a lie. His kindness definitely extended more towards the women around camp. Sadie was proof of this behaviour, whenever they passed by each other he made sure to send some comforting words her way to help her settle, the poor widow.

He struggled with how to word his answer for some reason, his thoughts too tangled and complicated to try and briefly summarize without audibly expressing his doubts. Doing that in broad daylight, especially in the middle of camp, would grab people’s attention but at the same time he couldn’t just lie to Hosea. Of all the people Arthur had met during his life it was Hosea who could understand him the best. A long time ago, when he had first been taken under Dutch and Hosea’s wings the former had jokingly told him that Hosea had the ability to read minds. Being the dumb kid he was back then for a little while he had believed it. His natural intuition was genuinely that good. It was a skill Arthur could only dream of having, being able to level with people and sympathize with others the way Hosea could.

“I’m just hoping the decision to take her on won’t kick us in the ass later.” Arthur says, an honest air in his voice. Lucy was not his major worry, it was Dutch’s reasoning for keeping her around that bothered him. He was playing it like a good samaritan but Arthur couldn’t help but feel that there was some ulterior motive to his actions. His gut was telling him that it was to poke at Colm but he prayed to be proven wrong. Messing with Colm even more after all they had done was like nudging at a hibernating bear for cheap thrills.

Hosea only nods at his statement, looking away for a moment before returning his gaze back to Arthur. His eyes have a patient aura about them, like he had reached an understanding of Arthur’s emotions after only a few seconds.

“All I’m asking is that maybe if you play nice she’ll cooperate more readily. She’s been alone for a while now, it would do more good to welcome her rather than keep a scrutinizing eye.” He punctuates his sentence by reaching for Arthur’s empty coffee cup and waiting for him to hand it over, forcing Arthur to make eye contact.

Arthur simply nods in response at Hosea’s statement, feeling like a kid who had been scolded by his parent. With that the older man walked away, leaving him alone at the stewpot. Arthur picks up the serving spoon and scoops some of the bubbling stew into a bowl. His original intention had been to peacefully have some lunch but suddenly his mind was swirling with reminders of everything that needed to be done for the sake of the gang.

_There ain't such a thing as simple pleasures for an outlaw..._

When he finally finishes his food, every last bit now churning in his stomach, he turns around to dump his used dish into the wash bin. However when he turns to the back of Pearson’s wagon he’s greeted by a familiar silhouette. Reminded by Hosea's words, he wills himself to greet her...

"Miss Huang." he says. Arthur sees Lucy's eyes briefly glance at him before returning to her work.

“Afternoon, Mr. Morgan.” she greets him plainly, focusing intently on scrubbing the bowl she has in her grip, choosing not to look up at Arthur.

“Busy, I assume.” He says. The stack of clean dishes next to the wash bin catch his eye. She was nearly finished with the chore which led him to wonder how long she had been standing there.

“S’pose so.” Lucy says, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she continues to vigorously wash the remaining stew bowls and metal mugs.

It is in that moment when Arthur notices how clean Lucy now looks. Her deep black hair brushed and pulled back into a low bun at the nape of her neck with a few loose stray hairs framing her face. The dirt and grime from the previous night had now been scrubbed off revealing smooth, sun-kissed beige skin. The sleeves of her cream button down were rolled up past her elbows, protecting the cuffs from the soapy dish water, and paired with a deep forest green skirt. The entire outfit courtesy of Ms. Grimshaw, no doubt. She looked like a normal lady now instead of the wild woman he and Hosea had chanced upon just hours ago in the dead of night.

“Trying not to be too much of a burden on you all.” she adds giving him a pointed look and shaking her hands of excess water. Some stray droplets sprinkle the skin of Arthur's cheek and he wipes at the moistness with the back of his hand. Her voice had been a bit quieter but just loud enough for him to hear. It was definitely in reference to what he had said moments earlier to Hosea. Maybe he should have chosen his words more carefully.

“As long as you don’t cause problems there ain’t gonna be any issues.” Arthur replies handing his dirty dish to her.

“Ain’t exactly planning on it.” Lucy says, grabbing at the opposite edge of the dish in Arthur’s hand.

They lock eyes, Lucy looking up at him with an unwavering gaze. Even though she was probably a good half a foot shorter than Arthur she still sized up to him, holding her ground better than most strangers Arthur had intimidated in the past. He eventually loosened his grip on the bowl, taking a step back to leave her to the chore. He wasn’t about to pick a fight instead taking the more peaceable route as advised by Hosea. As he walked away he began to think retrospectively on what the elder man had said about Lucy being charming, wondering how he had managed to crack at her stubborn facade.

 

~*~

 

Arthur nestles into the mattress of his cot, taking a deep breath before a loaded sigh escaped his lungs. Today had been a long day to say the least. He had known breaking Micah out of jail in Strawberry was going to be a lofty task but the aftermath of it was not something he had prepared to deal with. In the end Micah adamantly refused to return to camp. Arthur felt like he was wasting his time on him but Dutch's orders still stood so there were no other options. On top of all that he still had an oil wagon to worry about stealing and a couple of gunslingers to track down in hopes of some future cash coming his way. Things just never seemed to calm down around him, tasks upon tasks just kept piling up. He contemplates his plans for the next few days while staring up at the tent canvas precariously draped above him in semblance of some kind of roof.

Just when Arthur had decided to close his eyes he hears the sounds of someone calming a horse. Now alert, he gets up from bed to investigate the commotion. Peering out from behind his ammo wagon he can make out a figure in the darkness trying to coax one of the horses to the edge of camp. He crouches and pursues the horse thief as stealthily as he can. Once he’s close enough he hooks his arm around the person’s neck only to be elbowed in the gut almost immediately. The blow causes Arthur to step back, unhanding the person. When he finally recovers he looks up to see Lucy with a dark blue bandana covering the bottom half of her face.

“What the hell are you doing?” he exclaims before Lucy’s hands cover his mouth, she shushes him in a panic looking around to see if anyone woke up. Arthur removes her hand from his mouth and grabs her by the shoulders. “What did you take?” he demands but this time using a quieter tone.

“I wasn’t stealing.” she proclaims, her tone hushed as well. Arthur gives her a disapproving look and Lucy sighs at his distrust in her. “Check if you’re so unsure.”

Arthur pats her down, checking for any kind of stolen item on her person. He finds nothing besides her knife and holstered pistol attached to her belt.

“What were you planning on doing?” he demands, visibly annoyed. “Taking him out for a joy ride in the middle of the night? With your face covered like some kinda criminal?” he whispers gesturing to the horse that Lucy had managed to tame.

Lucy just stares at him, debating on what to say. He squints at her in the darkness, his look demanding an answer from her. Maybe he was right in thinking she was trouble. Lucy exhales in mild exasperation, her hand reaching up to pull the bandana from her face so she can speak clearly and try to prevent further misunderstanding.

“I left some valuables behind at my campsite that I think could go for quite a price. The gang could be a bit richer if you’d just let me go.” Arthur audibly sighs at her plan. It had good intentions but, in his opinion, it was clear that she hadn’t fully thought this through.

“I’m not letting you go out and cause more trouble for us. Last time I checked you were being hunted by O’Driscolls. You’re not thinking.” Lucy only gets visibly more defensive after he says this.

“It wasn’t going to be a problem until you jumped me. I can handle myself. I’d be back before sunrise with a significant take if you’d just _trust_ me.” Moments after she had said her piece she freezes and grabs at Arthur’s forearm, an idea fresh in the front of her mind, Arthur can practically see it swimming in her eyes.

“Come with me.” she says and Arthur shakes her arm from his grip.

“Just leave?” she nods. “With you? In the middle of the night?” her nods only get more insistent.

“If you don’t think I can handle myself then come and supervise.”

He contemplates the offer, lowering his gaze to the ground, scratching at his chin where the stubble was growing out from his last shave. He glances up to see a slight smirk on her face, as if challenging him to say yes. He had to admit that her eagerness was admirable, even though in this specific instance it was simultaneously annoying. But if she was so willing to prove herself…

“How much we talking?”

“I’ll let you be the judge if you’re willing to help.” she replies promptly.

It takes another moment to finalize his decision, but then…

“Alright.” he obliges and Lucy’s facade crumbles for a moment before it reconstructs. She probably wasn’t expecting him to be so agreeable so quickly.

“Let’s go then.” she says and makes to mount the horse she had just persuaded.

Arthur grabs at her elbow tugging her back. “We’re riding together.” he says, giving her a look that meant no funny business before leading her over to his horse. Lucy only shrugs, now complicit in whatever Arthur had to say as long as her plan followed through.

“Whatever you say.”

Arthur mounts first before helping Lucy up. She adjusts to a comfortable position behind Arthur, once again leaving a bit of space between them, tentatively resting her hands at his waist to stabilize her position. They pass through the brush seemingly undetected and slip into the night. Lucy directs Arthur for the rest of the journey to her old campsite, they take brief pauses along the way for Lucy to identify the surrounding area and get them going in the exact direction.

“Ain’t really looking forward to fighting a bunch of O’Driscolls on a whim.” he remarks as they pass through the barren valley of the Heartlands, they’re at a steady gallop heading east. The moon high in the sky casting silvery light over the plains, brightly illuminating everything in sight.

“You shouldn’t be worried. Most of the time the bastards can’t shoot straight anyways.” she comments. He’s impressed by her consistent confidence, she was either talking herself up or she actually had the skills to warrant such confidence.

“Why are they after you anyways?” he asks.

Now she hesitates to respond.

“It’s a complicated story.” she quickly explains. “One too long for a ride on horseback anyways.”

The conversation promptly ends after her statement. Lucy certainly had a knack for building anticipation. At this point her backstory was still unreadable, the bits of information Arthur had managed to tease out of her not enough to piece together a coherent narrative. The fact that she had things to hide concerned him but he wasn't about to interrogate her, she seemed harmless enough. Maybe a little reckless, but harmless nonetheless.

“We’re almost here.” Lucy says and tells Arthur to cut across a field to the left. He slows his horse’s pace as they approach a grouping of trees.

“It should be in the clearing just beyond this point. It’ll be easier if we go on foot from here, just in case there’s anyone loitering.” Lucy advises and Arthur follows suit, hitching his horse at the edge of the tree line.

The two dismount and Arthur follows Lucy into the brush after taking a rifle from his horse. They walk for a few minutes, the moonlight filtering through the gaps in the canopy of leaves making it a bit hard to see. As they continue weaving between the trunks and bushes the warm, golden glow of a nearby campfire can be seen. Lucy abruptly stops and sticks her arm out motioning for Arthur to do the same. She then motions for Arthur to follow her behind a tree wide enough to hide both of their forms. The two stand as still as they possibly can, he can hear the distant chatter of men just ahead of them.

"Why's it taking so long?" one of them complains from his post at the edge of the clearing.

"This bitch sure is good at hiding shit." Another remarks, the tinny sound of an empty can falling on the ground follows.

Some O'Driscolls had been dispatched to squat around this campsite as he had predicted. He sends her a look, his brows furrowed in annoyance, but Lucy doesn't see. She's too busy trying to scout the situation.

“How many do you see?” Arthur asks as she peeks, gripping the rifle in his hands, preparing for a fight.

“Maybe four. Bastards are looking through my stuff.” Lucy whispers in response as she retreats, her back now pressing against trunk space right beside Arthur. Her eyes scan their surroundings trying to come up with a strategy.

Arthur now looks around the trunk to survey the situation as well. There’s two men standing guard, each on opposite ends of the clearing, facing opposite directions. The other two men were pilfering around the camp probably looking for something important.  _What have I gotten myself into..._

“I’m thinking that we should each take a guard.” Lucy starts outlining her strategy. “You go over there towards the one at the far end and I’ll lure the one closest here and take him out. Once that’s done you take out yours and then we’ll deal with the last two.”

“You think that’ll work?” Arthur asks.

“It’s the quietest way.” she responds and unsheathes the knife at her hip. “Hopefully the least troublesome as well...” she mutters, her brown eyes glowing with an intense focus in the low lighting. Maybe it's a trick of the light but Arthur detects a troubled expression on her face.

“You’re the boss.” he says. She looks him up and down with an indecisive glance before peering back around their cover. Arthur shoulders his rifle and looks around, trying to evaluate the shortest path to the other side as he waits for Lucy to give the okay.

Lucy taps at his arm before crouch walking to another tree, this time closer to her guard. Arthur takes this as his cue and leaves her behind, swiftly crouch-walking just past the edge of the tree line to move into position. When he’s finally close enough to the guard on the other side he hears a faint but still audible whistle come from Lucy’s position at the opposite side of the clearing. The group of O’Driscolls stop what they’re doing immediately. The man closest to Lucy announces his investigation of the sound to the group and leaves his position to do so. Arthur takes this as the opportunity to take down his assigned guard now that his back was turned. However, just as the farther O'Driscoll steps out of place a distant horse's whinnying can be heard from Arthur's direction.

“Hey! What're you doin' here?" the O'Driscoll exclaims having noticed Arthur, his gun aimed straight at him.

A curse manages to escape Arthur’s lips and he has no choice but to approach. With his hunting knife in his hand he tackles the guard to the ground. As soon as he finishes slicing the O’Driscoll’s throat he hears the shot of a gun just ahead of him. In his periphery he can see Lucy’s guard fall to the ground, blood spurting out of the new hole from the back of the man's head. The remaining two at the center of the camp were now shouting, scrambling for their weapons, declaring only to each other that they were being attacked. One of them manages to aim their gun at Arthur but before he can shoot there are three shots haphazardly puncturing the O'Driscoll's back. He falls face first with a thud against the grass. The last O’Driscoll attempts to run away with his life and nearly makes it to the edge of the tree line before another shot sinks into the side of his neck, killing him instantly.

Arthur looked towards Lucy now with an impressed look growing on his face but it soon disappears upon seeing the state of her. As she holsters her gun he notes the look of disapproval on her face. She exhales heavily with her brows furrowed and a critical look in her eyes. She seemed genuinely displeased.

“That didn’t end up being too quiet.” Arthur quips trying to ease the tension. Lucy snaps out of whatever state she had been in and directs her gaze at Arthur. She only nods at him, a subtle frown on her lips, before leaning down and looting the dead bodies not saying another word. His attempt at lightening the mood had clearly been unsuccessful.

Arthur takes a moment to fully study the campsite. At the center there was a pitched tent, the canvas of it looked seriously weathered with some patches from other pieces of fabric spotting the exterior. There were clothes strewn around the grass and a couple of opened cans of food littered about as well, evidence that the O'Driscolls had thoroughly searched the place.

“That was a horse you heard, right?” Lucy asked as she rose from the last dead body and walked towards the side of the clearing Arthur had emerged from.

“Sounded like one.”

She studies something just through the trees before whistling again, this time it was louder, the note was crisp and more pronounced than when she had been trying to lure the O’Driscoll guard out as a distraction.

The sound of hooves trotting along the ground grew louder and Lucy disappeared into the bushes for a moment only to reappear leading, what Arthur recognized to be, a light brown Appaloosa by its reins.

“That your horse?” Arthur asked, approaching Lucy as she pet the horse’s neck, trying to calm him after the commotion that occurred.

“I got him a few months ago from some low life trying to rob me. He responds to Arlo so that’s what I call him. Didn’t expect him to still be around though.” Lucy reaches into the saddle bag on Arlo’s back and pulls out a beet root for him to snack on. Arthur suddenly recalls Hosea talking about Lucy having been on her own for a while and feels his previous pity return. Things couldn't have been easy for her if she had been roughing it by herself, and now Arthur found himself fully basking in sympathy as he looked around him at the ravaged campsite. This had been her life, and he didn't even know how long this had been going on.

He cleared his throat then, shaking off the sentimentality. They couldn’t stay here any longer after what had just transpired.

“We better leave. Someone could have heard what happened.” Lucy nods in agreement with him and they both went to work packing up camp.

It doesn't take them long to pack everything up. Lucy seemed to travel with just the basic necessities, probably to make moving around easier.

“So about these valuables…” Arthur starts as he stamps out the fire, they had nearly finished packing now and he hadn't seen anything of value yet as she had promised. He turned to see Lucy digging at the ground where her bedroll had been. As Arthur approaches her she displaces more dirt before reaching into the hole she had made, from it she pulled out a medium sized drawstring bag.

“In here.” she says before handing the bag to Arthur for him to hold so she could stow her tent and bedroll on her horse. Intrigued at its hefty weight he opens it to find an abundance of jewellery and a number of different pocket watches filling the bag more than halfway to the top, and at the bottom of the bag...

"Gold?" he nearly exclaims at the sight of a gold bar, maybe just a bit bigger than his own hand.

When Arthur looks back at Lucy she doesn't look as smug as he thought she would have been. Instead she doesn't make eye contact and so he doesn’t say anything else to her as he hands the bag back to her.

Once everything was stowed and ready the two walk back to where they had entered, Lucy leading Arlo on foot through the trees. The ride towards the Fence at Emerald Ranch was quiet again as Arthur led the way. The whole way there Lucy revisited her contemplative state from before when they had ambushed the group of O’Driscolls. There was something clearly eating away at her but instead of asking Arthur just left it alone. Her attitude puzzled him but he felt he had no warrant to ask what was wrong, the two had only met the previous night after all and she probably didn't trust him enough to explain her thoughts. Hosea's intuition would have been really helpful right now.

They arrive just as the sun began to peek over the horizon, the night was still lingering in the early hours of the morning tinting everything around them a light blue. Arthur can see Seamus walking towards the table, the man was just starting his day meanwhile they had been hustling for the entire night. Lucy dismounted her horse first, hitching it in front of the barn before sauntering up to the sketchy looking man, the persona Arthur knew returning. Seamus’ arms firmly cross at the sight of her, staring Lucy down with a judgmental gaze.

“What do you want?” he asks curtly and Lucy narrows her eyes at the man, slightly irritated.

“I wanna sell.” she says firmly. Seamus says nothing as Lucy drops the bag onto his table.

Arthur doesn’t like the suspecting look Seamus gives Lucy as he pulls each item out of the bag. Everything he pulls out is in mint condition but he still looks on as if there’s some invisible layer of dirt that somehow covers each item's inherent value. When he pulls the gold bar out of the bag his disapproving look grows even more.

"She with you?" Seamus questions at the sight of Arthur behind Lucy. He only nods, his eyes narrowing at the man.

“I can give you about $100.” he says once he's done the inspection, returning his gaze to the shorter woman in front of him.

“Excuse me?” Lucy says, she wasn't having any of this right now.

“$100.” Seamus repeats, turning his nose up high in the air. Lucy looked irritated but clearly she was more tolerant of this kind of treatment probably having seen it many times before.

"You and I both know that all this costs well over $500..." she starts, her hands dropping to her sides. Impatience was starting to drip from every word leaving her mouth.

“Clearly we’re seeing different things.” Seamus replies not bothering to hide the disgusting look he sends to Lucy. Arthur taps his foot impatiently, finding this whole encounter incredulous.

"I don't wanna have to fight with you, sir..." The man scoffs at her statement dismissively.

"What's a woman like you gonna do to a man like me, huh?" he says, goading her.

Arthur could tell that threatening was all Lucy had planned to do. He had mentioned to her on the way there that their partnership with the Fence was only a day deep and judging by the look on Lucy's face she was clearly trying to hold herself back. Admittedly, he wanted to see how fast she could put a bullet in Seamus' head right now too. 

"Just show the woman some respect and nobody gets hurt." Arthur cuts in now, his patience with the man running thin. "I've seen her in action, you don't wanna get on her bad side." Seamus only laughs at this statement.

“Listen here, I deal with folk like you, not some oriental bitch that comes from nowhere and tries to start trouble.”

Everything that happens next is a blur. Suddenly Arthur was grabbing at the collar of Seamus’ shirt, the abruptness of the action startling Lucy. He pulls Seamus in close over the table, the dealer's eyes suddenly shoot open at the use of brute force.

“I said show the lady some goddamn respect before I beat your ass into the next century myself.” Arthur threatened through clenched teeth, throwing the man back over the table. He lands on his ass and soon scrambles to his feet, fearing for his life.

“How much you want for it all?” his voice strains with fear. Arthur eyes Lucy, encouraging her to speak up.

“$600.” Lucy says and Seamus pulls out a wad of cash and quickly starts counting bills.

“Better make it $650 for the trouble.” Arthur cuts in again and is only met with more feverish nods accompanied by the sound of fluttering bills and the chattering of Seamus’ teeth.

The pair leave Emerald Ranch after making sure everything had been fully paid for and as they rode away Arthur made a mental note to tell Hosea the details about their newly acquired business partner. The sun had started rising over the horizon now, yellow and pink tones washing away the deep blue of the early morning sky.

“Wait.” Lucy calls out to Arthur suddenly and slows her horse to a stop.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, slowing down as well and directing his horse to face her.

“You shouldn't have had to do that for me.” Lucy says, reaching into the satchel hanging across her body. She pulls out a stack of cash and hands it to Arthur. A confused look spreads across Arthur’s face.

“What for?”

“As thanks...for helping me.”  He just looks at her blankly, waiting for her to further explain her reasoning but her eyes never meet his.

“You handled yourself just as well and that clown at Emerald Ranch needed a lesson.” Arthur says in an attempt to reassure her but still, she chose not to speak. He thought that it was weird for her to double back on everything she had done so far. Maybe she wasn't just an overconfident gunwoman after all.

“I'm not gonna take that much.” he says with real sincerity, handing the money back to her. Lucy only shakes her head in refusal.

“I have more than enough to take back.” Arthur shakes his head again, he pockets half the stack as a compromise but waves the remaining amount in front of her face.

“Take this or it gets lost in the wind.” he says nonchalantly.

Now it’s Lucy’s turn to look confused, but Arthur just waits daring her to take it from him. When she doesn’t immediately grab the cash he starts to loosen his grip, one finger at a time. Once he’s holding the bills between his index finger and thumb Lucy finally snatches the money from him. She sighs, definitely thinking he was stupid for not taking her initial offer.

“Now get lost.” he says, ordering her to go back to camp.

“You should sleep.” Lucy replies after pocketing the money. There’s concern laced in her voice, fully aware of the sun's presence only making it more evident to her that they had stayed up the entire night.

“I got time.” Arthur dismisses her. “You go back. I need to be somewhere later.” It takes Lucy a bit of time to go, still uncertain whether it was actually okay for her to leave Arthur behind as she slowly leads her horse away. He only gestures with his hands for her to keep going.

Before Lucy leaves Arthur notices her lips press into an apologetic smile, then she kicked into the side of her horse starting a swift gallop in the direction of Horseshoe Overlook. Arthur stays and watches her leave, once she rode far enough he turned off the main road to find a suitable camping spot to sleep for a few hours.


	3. Old Habits, New Colleagues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who’s there?” a man’s voice calls out suddenly from the shadows of the brush. The sudden exclamation made Lucy jump out of the contemplative state she had submitted herself to.
> 
> The figure of the man who had called out to her became more clear as he walked out from the shadows of the trees. He was tall with long, dark brown hair and the claw marks carved into the flesh of his cheek became more visible as he approached. He looked familiar, Lucy probably remembered his face from the crowd during the group introduction Dutch had conducted. With a face like that it would be hard to forget anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this well after the second chapter has been updated you should probably go back and reread it. I made some recent changes to the overall plot line of the story so things will be a bit different from here on out!

Basking in the early hours of the morning was something that Lucy rarely got to do while on her own. On her way back to camp she decided to take a pit stop by a river not that far off from where the gang had settled down. It was located deep in the valley at the foot of the distant mountains, the winter run off causing a strong current of water to rush downstream. She had let Arlo loose to graze and drink water while she stood by the shore of the river taking in the cool morning air.

Her eyes were starting to feel heavy and strained from being awake for so long. To, quite literally, wash away the fatigue she bent down, scooped some river water up in her hands and splashed her face. She could feel her blood rushing to her cheeks to rewarm the skin as icy water ran down her face. Looking back down at the river she caught a glimpse of her reflection and frowned. Haggard was probably the best word to describe her appearance.

There was a hollowness in her cheeks from not having decent meals over a long period of time. Her hair, made neat and proper by Miss Grimshaw, was now disheveled. Stray hairs and flyaways stuck out of her head as a result of the kerfuffle she had with O’Driscolls the previous night. While attempting to fix her appearance in the mirror of the river she noticed dark brown, blotchy stains at the hem of her skirt.

“Shit.” she muttered under her breath before stepping forward onto the riverbed so her skirt touched the water’s surface and squatting low enough to reach the edge of her skirt.

She began scrubbing at the new stains, rubbing out as much grime as she could. This long, cumbersome piece of cloth had come from Miss Grimshaw’s curt hospitality and so she felt a personal responsibility to at least keep it bloodstain free. This was one of the reasons she had stopped wearing skirts while she was on her own, the hem had a tendency to brush along the ground and inadvertently over the unfortunate souls whose bodies had been punctured by bullets and soiled by their own fluids after an untimely demise. A demise she had caused.

Despite Lucy’s practical reasoning for wearing pants Miss Grimshaw did not seem too pleased at the sight of a woman wearing them. From the brief moment they had been introduced to each other Lucy could sense a strict attitude about the older woman. Grimshaw had visibly grimaced at the sight of Lucy’s mangled appearance upon their first meeting and Lucy’s breath still caught in her lungs thinking about how tight Grimshaw had tied her corset, all the while muttering about basic upkeep and feminine appearance. 

Once Lucy had done the best she could to erase traces from last night she decided to make her way back to camp. It was probably in her best interest to try and sneak back into camp and make it look as though she had been sleeping in her temporary bedroll the whole night. After all, Lucy didn’t know what trouble she would be in for sneaking off in the middle of the night without anyone knowing. Hell, she didn’t even know how strict the camp’s rules were, if there were any. Anxiety started to simmer deep in the pit of her stomach.

She tried to recall the details of her discussion with Dutch concerning her stay with the gang. It had been exactly as Hosea outlined the night she was picked up. She was “tagging along” so-to-speak since Dutch had apparently previously warned the gang members not to pick up any more passengers.

“We are in desperate times, Miss Lucy.” she remembered him explaining. “However, we can spare room for one more if you would consider staying long term.” he had said.

While speaking with him Lucy had picked up on Dutch’s charismatic personality. He was a natural born leader, he could command the room well and spoke eloquently at the drop of a hat. Lucy also noticed how much Dutch seemed to focus on “their cause” and her being “a great asset” to it. Whatever that meant.

However, despite trying to rack her brain for more details nothing else had come up in terms of rules or conditions, which worried her. In her past experience gangs didn’t normally warm up to the idea of a woman gunner and from her brief time with the group so far all the women seemed to get up to was chores, chores, and more chores delegated by the camp dragon Miss Grimshaw herself. If she were to draw a conclusion from all this evidence it would be that, were she to tell the truth about what had happened last night, she wouldn’t be in good shape. But then how was she supposed to explain the amount of cash in her possession. It contradicted with her character entirely considering the state Hosea and Arthur had found her in which she knew had been discussed by both parties to Dutch on separate occasions.

As Lucy continued to walk on foot, absorbed in her own thoughts while leading Arlo by his reins, she was beginning to get frustrated from thinking herself into circles and drawing blanks at every turn. She couldn’t make progress in marking out her next steps which only made the anxiety in her stomach swell even more. If there was one thing she hated it was being vulnerable to circumstances she could have prevented had she just done the right thing in the first place. Maybe Arthur had been right, maybe doing this had all been a mistake on her part and she just wasn’t thinking clearly.

“Who’s there?” a man’s voice calls out suddenly from the shadows of the brush. The sudden exclamation made Lucy jump out of the contemplative state she had submitted herself to.

The figure of the man who had called out to her became more clear as he walked out from the shadows of the trees. He was tall with long, dark brown hair and the claw marks carved into the flesh of his cheek became more visible as he approached. He looked familiar, Lucy probably remembered his face from the crowd during the group introduction Dutch had conducted. With a face like that it would be hard to forget anyway.

“Um...Lucy?” she called back to the guard, finally answering him. Her voice had cracked slightly after raising it loud enough for him to hear. She felt intimidated, maybe because of his resting face or the big rifle in his grip, but she tried not to let that feeling show, putting on her usual bravado.

“What you got there?” The man narrowed his eyes at her, brow furrowed in mild confusion at the sight before him. 

Lucy straightened her spine and cleared her throat, he was clearly referring to Arlo which made sense in context. To his knowledge, Lucy had arrived with nothing when she had been taken in by the group so what was she doing leading a horse with a complete set of tack?

“I...found him…” she improvised, gesturing to Arlo who started to chew at the leaves of a bush, entirely unaware of the tension in the air. “Must’ve lost his rider. It happens.” she continued. 

The man just slowly nodded, shaking off the confused look on his face. The awkwardness of this encounter was already imbedding itself deep within Lucy’s mind to cringe about later.

The man then shouldered his gun and reached his hand out towards Arlo’s reins. “I’ll hitch him up back at camp.”

“No!” Lucy said abruptly, her grip on Arlo’s reins tightening. The guard’s puzzled look was beginning to return. “I’ll take responsibility for him. I found him after all.” she said, punctuating her statement with a smile that was supposed to look natural, it ended up looking more nervous if anything.

“Alright…” said the guard, looking Lucy up and down with a skeptical look. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

Lucy just nodded back at him not knowing what else to say. The interaction ended as he walked back to his post. Once out of earshot Lucy let herself go with a sigh of relief and began her entry into camp, hopefully she had played that off well.

~*~

When Lucy had arrived back at camp nobody seemed to be awake yet which gave her time to rest her own eyes as if she had been sleeping the whole night as well. However, with her satchel full of money underneath her pillow she found it particularly hard to get any shut eye. The stack of cash in her bag was weighing heavy on her conscience. It had done the same when it was still a bag full of valuables in their original form, the same as the day they had been stolen. For some reason she had willed herself to believe that as paper bills it would be easier to cope with the guilt of knowing where that money came from. However, much to her discomfort, nothing had changed. The circumstances from which the money had been obtained didn’t just disappear from history after being transformed into uncharacteristic cash. In the end, it had started a conflict Lucy hadn’t been ready for and so she wanted it gone just to alleviate herself from some of the guilt.

Her plan was to use the Van der Linde gang’s desperation for a few bucks to her advantage. Dutch had also previously mentioned that they were in need of money which sounded like the perfect opportunity for Lucy to drain her pockets and to free up some of her conscience as well, so she could start anew. The problem was finding the right time to deposit the money discreetly without making a big deal out of it. It was a lot of money there was no denying it, but maybe if she cashed it in when people were unaware the whole thing would blow over and no one would notice. The chances of that happening were slim but she was willing to take any chance over none at all.

“Miss Lucy! What do you think you’re doin’?” The sound of Grimshaw’s shrill, commanding voice had startled her, causing her to sit up straight from her original position on her bedroll. She had just been lying down with her eyes open which didn’t exactly tickle Miss Grimshaw’s good side.

“It’s time to get to work!” she yapped. “I won’t tolerate slackers! We’ve already got an abundance of those.” her arm hooked around Lucy’s, yanking her to her feet and basically dragging her over to one of the big wash bins by one of the many wagons in camp. They had been filled with soapy water and clothes ready to be laundered.

“Now get to work!” and with that Grimshaw turned heel and left.

“That woman is a piece o’ work, my God.” A woman’s voice said. 

Lucy turns to see a young black woman dressed in bright yellow, already kneeling over the wash bin. “She’s got you roped into chores too?” she asks. Lucy kneels down beside her and picks up a washboard.

“I’ll do what I’m asked if I can help it.” she replies simply before rolling up her sleeves and fishing for a garment to clean. 

_I got no choice otherwise._

“Oh, don’t be so polite about it. You barely just got here and now you’re forced to wash a bunch of strangers’ dirty clothes.” Lucy just shrugs for an answer and gets to work scraping the garment in her hand on the washboard.

“I’m Tilly by the way.” the young woman introduced herself with a big smile, reaching her hand out for Lucy to shake. “Tilly Jackson.” Lucy looked at Tilly’s hand with hesitation but the friendly expression Tilly had effortlessly drew her in and she took it, feeling a smile growing on her own face.

“Lucy Huang.” she said, giving Tilly’s damp hand a firm shake.

“No need to introduce yourself.” Tilly stopped her. “Dutch already did that.”

“I see.” Lucy replied, the embarrassment threatening to return. She was going to have to get used to socializing with people again. The people she would normally cross paths with never really had anything nice to say to her. Making friends as a homeless outlaw hadn’t exactly been easy.

“Everyone’s curious about you, you know?” Tilly’s statement caused Lucy to raise an eyebrow in question. “Usually what Dutch says gets inscribed in stone but I guess he’s the only one who can break his own rules.”

“You’re talking about the ‘no passengers’ thing, right?” Lucy asks well-aware of the circumstance and Tilly nods in affirmation while wringing out a shirt as much as she can before setting it aside to be hung to dry.

“He said that as soon as we landed here. Normally he doesn’t make exceptions, unless someone real special comes round.”

“Special?”

“Sure, like Mrs. Adler over there.” Lucy turned in the direction Tilly had nodded towards. 

She saw a woman with blond hair quietly chopping vegetables with the saddest face Lucy had seen in a long time. 

“Poor thing. She’s been so depressed ever since the men found her up north. House burned down, husband killed by them foul O’Driscolls. All she’s been doing is chores. Rarely ever talks to folk. I don’t blame her for it though. Can’t imagine how she must be feeling. Even Grimshaw’s been going easy on her.” Tilly paused, eyeing Lucy with some curiosity.

“Yet she shows no restraint towards you.”

“Different strokes for different folks I guess?” Lucy suggested.

“Maybe.” Tilly changes the subject. “How’d you find us anyhow?”

“More like you found me. Hosea and Arthur I mean. They picked me up while I was in a tough spot.” Lucy said, keeping things vague.

“Well that kills one of the rumours.” Tilly says, in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Rumours?” Lucy inquires, suddenly invested in what other people were saying about her.

“People been talking. You should know that nobody knows how to mind their own business around here. Especially since there’s rarely anything exciting happening for most of us.”

“So what was the rumour?”

“You sure you wanna know?” Tilly asks, her head leaning closer to Lucy, trying to keep things hush hush. Lucy nods, her hands unconsciously stopping as all her attention is devoted to what Tilly is about to tell her.

“Well, much to Molly’s displeasure. People been saying you’re Dutch’s new hook up.”

The absurdity of it couldn’t help but make Lucy laugh out loud. Tilly started chuckling at her reaction before bumping Lucy’s arm with her elbow wordlessly telling her to quiet down in case Grimshaw heard the two having any shred of fun. 

“Unbelievable.” Lucy whispered while shaking her head, an amused smile growing on her face as she returned to the chore and Tilly just smiled back at her.

Lucy was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was for her to talk with Tilly. For the rest of the day she found herself glued to Tilly’s side as she spoke almost endlessly about the gang without complaint. Tilly had answered all of the questions that had come to Lucy's mind as best she could from summarizing the Van der Linde gang’s history to naming all the unique characters that wandered around camp. It served as a great crash course for Lucy and earned her a new friend in the process. 

From what she had been told the Van der Linde gang seemed like such a mismatch of different people. Most gangs usually weren’t this diverse, Lucy had learned from past experiences that different backgrounds amongst gangs were equivalent to different ideologies and to avoid clashing and unproductiveness all the gangs she had encountered only took in people that were either like-minded, looked the same, or came from similar backgrounds. Sometimes it was a combination of all three. This group was one of the few exceptions. She thought about the type of people she had interacted with thus far while settling down. A few people had been nice to her, namely Hosea and Dutch for letting her join them, but that Arthur Morgan was tough to please.

_Whatever. It’s not like I need him to sing my praises or anything._

While thinking about this it only made the decision of donating all the funds she had obtained a little easier, knowing that some nice people would be benefiting from the money she left behind.

After a long day of work and socializing nightfall had finally arrived. As the last of the gang had nodded off to sleep Lucy thought it to be the best time to try and get rid of the money she had gotten from the Fence. Once in front of the donation box her fingers fumbled with the bills as she quickly tried to count the correct total, double checking that every last dollar was there. She had written down the total amount and signed her name in messy, novice handwriting as Dutch had explained to her previously. When she opened the box to deposit the money she felt a sudden presence at her back.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” the rasp of the voice was familiar to her and she turned around to come face to face with the claw marked man from that morning. From Tilly’s individual character descriptions Lucy had deduced that this had to be the infamous John Marston.

“I was just...um…” her brain started to sputter as she tried to improvise an excuse.

“You stealing?” John narrowed his eyes at her. Lucy could feel her body press up against the barrel the donation box was set upon.

“No sir.” she replied a little too meek for her liking but since he practically towered over her she couldn’t help but feel small.

Then his eyes caught sight of the newest entry in the ledger and he backed off in order to clearly read what he had seen. As he stared at the book Lucy just stood there, the bills now crumpled in her tight fist behind her back as she awaited his next words.

“Where did you go last night?” John asked turning back to her suddenly. Meanwhile he had caught a glimpse of the cash in her hand further confirming the fact that Lucy had been trying to donate a rather large sum of money.

“Where did I go last night?” Lucy parroted, her heart started to pound with panic. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this backed into a corner. She had been chased by O’Driscolls far across the state of New Hanover yet in this moment she felt more trapped than she had ever been. Maybe it was because there was nowhere she could run.

“Yes, with Arthur. I saw the two of you leave camp last night. Where did you go? Where did you get all this money?” John interrogated. 

Lucy normally tried not to submit to her instinctive emotions, but with her lack of options she couldn’t help but feel panicked. What did this mean for her? Was she in trouble right now? Thoughts raced through her brain trying to figure out the best course of action. Could she lie her way out of this?

“If you don’t talk I’m afraid I’ll have to take this to Dutch.” John said, clearly in hopes that she would be intimidated enough to start talking.

Lucy narrowed her eyes at this statement. He was trying to draw her out, maybe hit a vulnerable spot. She was out of options now having no way to try and possibly smooth talk her way out of this. Even then smooth talking probably wouldn't work on John, she could tell he wasn't stupid enough to be fooled by what would be a flimsy lie considering how he had reacted to her improvised excuse before.

_Guess you can only hide for so long._

After a steady exhale she puffed her chest out and looked John straight in the eye to stand her ground. Sometimes Lucy wasn't able to sway a situation entirely in her favour. All she could do now was bare the weight of her actions.

“Okay.” she said, resigning herself. “I’ll tell you everything that happened last night.”

“You will?” he grabbed at her upper arm in attempt to threaten her further. Lucy just shook out of his grip and poked at his chest with her index finger, forcing him to step back.

“Yes, now step back before I actually get myself into some serious trouble.”

After Lucy deposited all the money in her possession John took her to one of the bigger trees at the edge of camp by the cliff face to talk. There she had divulged everything that occurred the previous night, particularly why she had left, and Arthur’s reasoning for tagging along. At the end of Lucy’s spiel John was silent for a few moments, trying to drink in all the information that had been dumped on him.

“So that horse you found outside camp…” he began a question.

“He’s mine.” she answered plainly while picking at the blades of grass around where she was seated at the base of the tree’s trunk.

“You’re one interesting lady.” John said, scratching at his chin where the scars were scabbing up. “Dutch really wasn’t lying when he said you could be useful to us.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need the money and I heard that y’all were in need of a little cash so…”

“That wasn’t just a little cash you dumped on us.” John interrupts with an incredulous chuckle. He reached into his jacket pocket for a cigarette and held it between his lips. “$450? That’ll help us a whole lot. Thank you.” he finished, lighting up the end of the cigarette and taking a drag.

Lucy just waved him off, for her it really wasn’t a big deal. She didn’t want that money anyways, she was more than glad to have it taken off her hands.

“As long as I don’t get in trouble with Dutch and the others for sneaking off on my own I’m fine.”

“Oh, there won’t be any trouble.” he reassured her. “I’ll speak to him, just so it’s not a big mystery as to how you got all that money for us. I’ll even put in a good word for you.”

Lucy smiled with relief. “I guess it was a pleasure to help then.”

It was silent again. John just sucked on his cigarette, contemplating something as he stared up at the moon through the branches of the tree they both were seated under.

“You know,” he started leaning forward towards Lucy, the cigarette from between his lips bouncing as he talked. “if you’re willing to help us out a little more I got an overdue job that could put you in even greater favours with Dutch. If that’s what you want of course.”

Lucy’s eyebrow quirked up at the offer in curiosity. Pleasing Dutch wasn't that much of priority for her right now, but if it got her out of doing laundry for another day she wouldn’t be opposed to other work. She could feel her heart pacing in her chest with an addictive kind of excitement. This was starting to feel like the old days for her so the temptation to take it was almost too good to pass up.

“That so?” she replied, trying to hide her interest. John’s lips just quirked up into a knowing smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was looooong overdue (4 months yikes...) so sorry about that! I just got on summer vacation at the beginning of July and had to focus on school almost exclusively since my last update. Hopefully updates will be more frequent now since I've got a better handle on how the overall plot will proceed from this point and I actually have more free time to write.
> 
> If anyone's still reading this while the story is ongoing tags will be updated to avoid spoilers as new chapters come out.


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